


Red String of Fate

by bloominsummer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Declarations Of Love, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 02:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11198307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: in which Derek and Stiles don't know that they're in love which each other, and Scott's patience is thinning.





	Red String of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this fic. No copyright infringement is intended.

 Scott is panting hard from all the training they have been doing for the last couple of hours, but Derek shows no signs of slowing down. Even after Scott threw him his shirt as a sign of defeat, all Derek did was to throw it right back at his face and proceeded to tap Scott’s side with a wooden stick. 

“Wow, real mature Derek,” Scott comments. He feel his phone buzzing in the back pocket of his sweatpants. Derek taps him again and Scott punches him on the chest in return. “Wait,” he held up his hand, “it’s Stiles.”

 Derek raises his eyebrows begrudgingly and takes a step backwards. 

 “Hey, what’s up?” he answers his phone.

_“Feels like somebody just hit me in the chest just now,”_ Stiles complains. 

_Huh_ , Scott thinks. Didn’t he just hit Derek in the chest right before Stiles said that?

“Uh, can you wait a moment? I want to try something.” 

_"What?”_

He moves towards Derek who is leaning on one of the pillars of his loft. Scott silently hopes that he isn’t putting too much weight on it because he knows that the whole building is at risk of falling apart.

He times his movement carefully, and hits Derek swiftly on the neck.

Derek stands up straight and glares at him. “What was that for?” 

At the same time, he hears an _“Ouch!”_ coming from his phone. He raises his hands to give Derek a signal, telling him to wait, and moves away from him.

“Okay, I’m back,” he says.

_“Okay, while you’re gone, it felt like I got punched in the neck. Except I’m the alone in my house. What the hell?”_

“Interesting,” he comments, looking pointedly at Derek. Derek raises his eyebrows at him, again. Somebody needs to tell this dude that no one except Stiles can interpret what he means just by looking at his eyebrows movements.

“What was that?”

He really doesn’t want to be in the middle of Derek and Stiles, so he opts for the less dangerous option. He tells Stiles a lie. “Nothing.”

_“You’re weird,”_ Stiles sighs exasperatedly. _“Are you still gonna come over for pizza and that Calculus mock exam you need help with?”_

“I hate anything related to Maths,” he mutters. “I don’t understand why I need to understand it in order to take care of animals.”

_“Yes, we know. I’ve heard you whine about it at least four times this week. You need to pass the class to graduate college, though. It’s mandatory.”_

Derek taps his wooden stick on the floor impatiently. Scott knows what it means: Derek wants him to get off the phone and continue with his training. Scott just smiles sweetly at him, because if had he known what Scott is going to say after he gets off the phone, Derek would have begged him to stay on the line.

“Okay, just give me a couple hours. I’ll bring the pizza.”

_“You’re the best, Scottie McHottie.”_ Then Stiles goes off the line.

Derek eases into his fighting stance again. “You’re still asking his help to tutor you, huh? Nothing has changed much since high school,” he grins.

Derek chooses the wrong time to act like a jerk, because it pushes Scott to just drop the bomb there and then. “Yeah, except the fact you and Stiles are sleeping together now.”

The Alpha falters. “Huh? What? We— we’re not—“

“Sure, Derek.”

It seems that Derek’s legs gave up on him, because he tries to regain his strength by propping himself up against a pillar.

“We’re not _together_ together,” he protests. 

Scott rolls his eyes. What’s even the point of trying to deny it anyway?

“First, we thought it was just because you’re spending a lot of time with one another, researching and stuff,” he starts. “We also knew you were teaching Stiles some hand to hand combat moves to make sure he can defend himself when it comes down to it. So the scent mixing.. we let it go, although it wasn’t as much as you and him smelling like one another, it was more to you both smelling like one thing. Like, it was beginning to be a ‘ _Stiles and Derek’_ smell. But then, you give off another unfamiliar smell whenever he walks into the room. One day, Isaac pointed it out. It’s happiness. You haven’t been happy for a long time, and that’s why we hardly know how it would smell coming from you.”

He looks over at Derek, but he doesn’t look like he’s ready to say anything yet. So Scott continues, “Between that, the casual intimacy you guys share and the fact that Stiles felt the pain resulting from me hitting you, _twice_ , I’d say your wolf bonded with him.”

“Wait a minute,” Derek runs his fingers through his hair nervously. 

“Hard to process, isn’t it?”

“Wait, what.” 

Scott chuckles. “You bonded, Derek. You have to tell him the truth now.”

“We can’t possibly bond,” he shakes his head. 

“Why not? Human mates are rare, especially for an Alpha, but it’s not impossible. See? I’ve picked up a few things from the materials Stiles forced me to read.” Scott mentally pats himself on the back for his good work.

“You have to be emotionally connected to bond,” Derek points out.

“And you think….. you’re not emotionally connected with.. Stiles?” Scott gives him a long, mirthful laugh. “Are you joking? He touches you and you turn soft. That one time you were so angry because we disobeyed your orders one too many times. You were _frantic_ , yet all Stiles had to do was put his hand on your shoulder. I swear, I saw you walked out of the room with your tails between your legs."

Apparently, Derek is one stubborn case a werewolf because he answers with, “He doesn’t love me.”

“Did he say that?”

“Not directly,” he admits.

“Go talk to him,” Scott suggests, “As soon as possible. You two bonded, he needs to know that. He deserves to know that.”

Derek gives him a funny, assessing look. “When did you grow up? You suddenly stopped being the clueless teenager whose life I had to continuously save.”

“Ass,” he replies. It’s probably save to assume that their training session is over, since Derek looks positively shocked. Scott walks across the room to gather his things and Derek says nothing more, just watches him.

Before he leaves the loft, he turns to look at Derek and tells him another truth, “Hey, for what it’s worth, I think he’s been head over heels for you since sophomore year. That’s another thing that hasn’t changed.”

He leaves right after that, but he can hear Derek’s rapid heartbeat loud and clear even after he’s outside the building.

 

* * *

 

 

Scott shoves the pizza boxes right at Stiles’ face as soon as he opens the door. “Pizza. Pineapple on top of your half. I don’t know how you do it, it’s kinda disgusting.” 

“Shut up and grab some beers from fridge.”

“Okay, boss.” Stiles hits him softly on the back of the head for his remark.

After spending two hours going through his mock-exam materials, Scott doesn’t have any idea which makes him want to puke more: the unbelievable amount of pizza he has consumed or the integral graphs laid out in front of him which remains undecipherable.

He’s leaning his head back on the sofa when he hears Stiles asking him, “Sooo, you came from Derek’s?”

“Yeah, how’d you know? You heard him over the phone?”

“Nah, you smell like his perfume when you walked in,” he replies, taking another gulp of his beer. “Wait, why did I just say that?”

“You’re pretty drunk,” Scott offers.

“At least I had the decency to finish explaining concepts to you first.”

It’s a good time as any to be questioning Stiles about his relationship with Derek, so Scott goes for it. He threads lightly, not wanting to tip the any of the alarms in Stiles’ brain off. “So, you and Derek. Is that a thing?”

“What?” Stiles narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Yeah— no. No. No way. Nein.”

“Okay. I was just asking. It seems that you two could be a thing, since you can identify his perfume. You know.”

Stiles laughs. “Not in a million years.”

“Why?”

“I mean, have you seen _Derek_? He’s way too good for me. He looks like Mr. November from that hot firemen calendar thing.. you know one of those. I— no.”

“You have some self-esteem issues that came out from nowhere.”

“Well, it’s the truth, my bro,” he raises his bottle, saluting Scott.

“You’re wasted.” Scott massages his temples out of frustration. “Jesus, both you and Derek are pretty stupid when it comes to this thing.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” he says, “I hope.”

“Okay, Scottie. Whatever you say. I’m closing my eyes now because they’re tired.”

Stiles takes approximately one and a half minutes to fall asleep, leaving Scott to clean up the mess they have made and watch over his oblivious best friend. He hauls Stiles off the floor and onto the sofa, drapes a blanket over him and hopes that either him or Derek will get their heads out of their asses soon. It’s driving _him_ crazy, and he’s just an observer to their relationship or more precisely, the complete lack thereof.

 

* * *

 

**[Sourwolf:Hey, can we talk?]**

> [You: Sure. What about?]  

**[Sourwolf: When are you free?]**  

> [You: Exams week, man. Next weekend, maybe?] 

> [You: Unless it’s important.]

> [You: Is anybody dying? Or in danger?]

**[Sourwolf: No, it’s ok. Next weekend it is then.]**

>  [You: Alright.]

 

Stiles feels a sharp pain in his chest right after he sends the text. He tries hard to ignore it for the rest of the day. Although, when he takes off his clothes before showering later that afternoon, he notices that the left part of his shirt—the part that falls right in front of his chest—is crumpled. Turns out he has been subconsciously clutching it throughout the day.

 

* * *

 

The night of his last exam, Stiles almost falls twice on his way up to Derek’s loft. Though after 10 days of not seeing the other man, it’s a danger worth risking. He gives his thanks to God when he successfully uses the key Derek gave him for emergencies to open the door at the first try.

He should’ve waited until tomorrow, he thinks. It’s probably weird for Derek to find him in his loft without any reasons besides Stiles just missing him. He’s not even sure he’s allowed to miss Derek. Sure, they have been sleeping together on multiple occasions, but it was agreed by both parties that they wouldn’t call it a relationship. Stiles has a lot of problems with that arrangement, but it’s not like he can just demand Derek to love him back.

He walks slowly across the loft, but it’s not enough to not catch Derek’s attention. Of course that’s the case, he _is_ a werewolf. He could probably hear Stiles’ footsteps from the stairs.

He find Derek sitting up on his king-sized bed, rubbing his eyes slowly. His bedhead— amazing. Stiles wants so badly to messes it up even more, wonders how it would feel like to run his fingers through Derek’s hair right now.

“Stiles?” Derek asks, his voice rough from sleep.

“Oh, hey. Sorry I woke you up.”

He stretches a little, just enough to make his shirt rode up, exposing a strip of skin. Stiles curses mentally. He wonders if Derek’s doing it on purpose to test his patience. “What are you doing here? It’s almost midnight.”

“I finished my last exam at 8 PM today. Went out with a couple friends to drink, celebrate a little. Then I came here.” Well, that’s not actually far from the truth. He sees Derek’s worried look and quickly adds, “Don’t worry, I didn’t drive here. I had Callie drop me off.”

“That’s a relief.”

Stiles realises all of the sudden that he doesn’t know what he’s doing there, in the middle of the night, in Derek’s loft, barely functioning. “I didn’t know you were sleeping. I’ll just.. go.”

“No, stay,” Derek moves, getting off from the bed.

“No, no. I’ll go. I’d be too domestic for our arrangement and you’ll be all weirded out in the morning,” he reasons. He starts to move towards the door, hoping to escape the situation, and Derek, and the ache in his heart he feels from not being embraced by him.

Derek curls his hand around Stiles’ wrist. “How are you going to get home?” he asks softly.

Stiles doesn’t answer him.

Derek stares at him, searching his face for an explanation. Stiles tries not to give anything away. Derek sighs tiredly, defeated. “If that’s how much you’d rather not share the bed with me while we’re fully clothed, I can sleep on the couch.”

The words were so heavy coming out of his mouth, they sober Stiles up a little. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What?”

“Why did you make it sound like I don’t want anything to do with you besides sex?”

“Isn’t that the truth?” he replies, worn out.

“What? No!” Stiles pulls his arm away from Derek’s grip, offended. “That’s your truth, not mine.”

Derek takes a step backward away from Stiles and tilts his head like he always does when he’s confused. Stiles would have found it endearing in any other occasion. “What are you talking about? Remember what you said to me the first time we slept together?”

“Was it before or after the _‘oh, God’_ , _’give it to me’_ and _‘harder’_?”

It’s apparent that Derek doesn’t appreciate his attempt at humour because he doesn’t laugh or even smile. Instead, he glares at Stiles.

“The first thing you said to me when you woke up was, ‘We need to establish some ground rules,’ and then you proceeded to give me a long ass explanation about why it’s good that we’re going to keep it casual.”

“Yeah, I was _rambling_ ,” he points out. “Do you know why I rambled? Because I was nervous. I didn’t want to hear you say that it was a mistake. I also didn’t want you to be weird about it, then ended up ignoring me completely. I couldn’t exactly tell you how I actually felt!”

“How did you actually feel?” Derek asks, confused.

“Ecstatic! How else are you supposed to feel when the guy you’ve been having dreams about since forever finally sleeps with you? Only, while waiting for you to wake up, I had time to think and I realised that we just got off a mission that night. You’d been high from the adrenaline rush and you were going rethink your decisions. So I just.. took precautionary measures,” he explains. 

Derek looks like he’s trying to process all the new information he just received, because his forehead is all scrunched up in concentration and it’s really cute— wait. Stiles really needs to stop getting distracted by his facial expressions.

“You didn’t stop me,” Stiles adds.

He gets a derisive scoff in return. “Yeah, sorry I was too busy trying to not show how much pain I was in.”

“Why were _you_ in pain?”

“Seven years,” Derek takes a deep breath, “That’s how long it has been since you saved me in that pool. It was stupid, I shouldn’t have ever turned my back to the Kanima, but I did it anyway. I beat myself up for it, for putting your life on the line right next to mine. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realised why I reacted that way. I was _scared_. For you. I made a wrong move trying to make sure you were safe because at that moment, without even realising it, your life meant more to me than my own.”

Derek’s silent for a moment and Stiles wants to tell him something, anything, but he raises his hand. So he waits.

“Seven years, and you finally kissed me,” he continues. “We even spent the night together. Then you woke up and told me what really great friends we were. I was disappointed, but I didn’t want to lose you. So I settled for what you were willing to give me.”

They have been really stupid asses, haven’t they?

“What are you saying?” He knows exactly what Derek’s saying, but who’s going to blame him for wanting to hear it clearly? They have had enough misunderstandings to last a lifetime.

“I’m saying, I’m in love with you.” Derek says it like he’s posing a challenge, like he’s daring anyone who questions his declaration to a fight. Stiles decides that he likes that.

“Since sophomore year?”

“Yeah.”

“You never did anything. Even then, I was the one who kissed you!”

Derek sits down on the bed and massages his temples slowly.

“I wanted to, okay, but when I finally gathered up enough courage to do so, Allison died,” he stops for a beat, “She died, Stiles, she didn’t just go away on a vacation someplace.”

“Yes, I know, I was there,” he replies shakily. How could anyone forget? Some nights he still wakes up screaming from having to re-experience that night in his dreams.

“It took me by surprise, because guess what? That could’ve been you! It was too dangerous for you to be with me then.”

It makes perfect sense. Stiles understands this. Even now, the pack is still trying to pick up the pieces that broke off from Allison’s death.

“What about now?”

He waits for Derek’s answer. Of course, Derek never disappoints him.

“Now, you can use a gun. You have training, from me, from Argent. You have specialised bullets, you know some magic Deaton’s taught you. You’re an adult. Now, I’d have you decide for yourself.”

“And that’s why I respect you,” Stiles concludes.

“Because I’m a coward who couldn’t face his own feelings for years?”

“Because in the end, you’re the only person besides Scott and my dad who knows how to protect me without belittling me or making me feel weak and useless because I’m human,” he makes his way to Derek and gently put his hand on the Alpha’s cheek. Derek leans into his touch. “Because in the end, you have my best interest in heart. Always.”

Derek closes his eyes and his expression is so soft, so content. He looks as if he went to his happy place, and that happy place is Stiles.

“And that’s also why I love you.”

Derek opens his eyes instantly. “You’re drunk,” he says. His eyes are smiling, though, so Stiles decides not to worry too much about his response.

“Yeah, but you can listen to my heartbeat and tell that I’m not lying,” he shrugs. “In any case, I’ll sleep the booze off and tell you the same thing first thing tomorrow morning.”

He bites his lip hesitantly before smiling at Derek. When Derek returns his smile, he pushes at Derek’s shoulder. “Now move. I want to snuggle with you tonight. Fully clothed.”

Stiles swears he can feel Derek smiling as he buries his face in Stiles’ hair. He keeps smiling the entire night. 

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Stiles says softly as soon as he sees Derek’s eyes flutters open.

“Hey, good morning.”

“I love you,” he kisses Derek. “Not drunk,” he kisses his forehead. “Slightly hangover, but sober,” he moves on to his cheeks. “Sober enough to make some coffee and get back into bed without waking you up,” he finishes with a kiss to the tip of his nose, then kisses him on the mouth once again for good measure. 

Derek licks his lips. “Okay.”

“Okay, you believe me?”

Derek laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound Stiles’ ears ever had the pleasure of hearing. “Okay, that’s the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

Stiles lets out the breath he’s holding in relief and rests his head on Derek’s chest. “Can we be in a relationship now? For real?"

“Let me think about it.”

_Wait, what?_ Stiles is about to go off on Derek when he lifts up his head and sees Derek grinning at him. That’s unfair, Stiles is supposed to be the one pulling pranks around here.

He hits Derek on the chest. “You ass! I almost thought you were for real!” 

Then, he feels _it_. Pain on his chest, right on the spot where he just hit Derek. He looks down on his own chest and back at his… boyfriend? Is it safe to call him that now?

“Yeah, about that. There’s something I think you should know.”

“What is it?”

“We bonded,” Derek explains, “Technically, my wolf bonded to you. So.. you are now able to feel my emotions and my pain. If I get hurt, it won’t manifest on you physically, but you’ll still feel it all the same. And if the bond is strong, then over time you can kind of read my mind.”

Stiles looks at him questioningly. “Read your mind? I never read about that in the books.”

“It’s not exact science and you won’t hear my voice inside your head or anything like that, but you’ll just.. know. What I’m going to do, what my decisions would be regarding certain things. We would be.. in sync. That’s one way of putting it.”

He nods, taking a moment to connect the dots. “When did you find out?”

“A couple weeks ago.”

Stiles’ eyes widens and he sits up on the bed. “You cheater,” he says accusingly, “You knew before me!”

“Yeah, Scott pointed out the bond for me. We were training and whenever he hit me, you would feel it over the phone.”

“I didn’t mean that,” he sulks.

“Then what?”

“I meant the fact that I’m in love with you too! You knew the bond must be based on emotional connection. It’s a two-way street.”

Derek reaches out his hands to hold Stiles’ own and the younger man lets him. “I didn’t know. Not for sure. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“That’s what the heartache was about,” he guesses.

Derek nods, bashful. “You felt it.”

“Yeah, that was so distracting. Why did you think I got drunk last night?”

“Sorry about that,” he offers sincerely.

Stiles pushes a lock of hair from his face away and tucks it behind his ear. He smiles at Derek, “Doesn’t matter. I like where we ended up anyway.”

He relaxes and moves back in, settling against Derek’s warm body. That’s one of the perks of being a werewolf: you never actually get cold. Derek’s hand on the back of his neck offers him comfort he gladly accepts.

“You seem okay with the whole bonding thing.”

He runs his fingers over Derek’s chest. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Whenever I get hurt now, you’ll feel it, you know?”

“That only means you’re going to be more careful because you wouldn’t want to hurt me as well. It’s a good thing. You’re kinda reckless and short-fused,” he chides. “Besides, the same thing can be said for you.”

Derek laughs again. Stiles believes that it’s the most he ever heard Derek laughs since they know each other. “Paper cuts are the kind of pain I’m willing to endure to be with you.”

“I didn’t know you could do romance,” he teases.

He gets a light slap on his head for that. “Shut up.”

“There it is, the sourwolf I know. Now, you want breakfast?”

“Not for awhile. Let’s just stay like this,” Derek puts his arms around Stiles and he wonders why it took them so long to do this. It gives him an idea to not waiting too long to express what he wants and how he feels.

So before he can lose his courage, he starts, “Hey, maybe in a couple years..”

“Yeah?” Derek asks, his hand still caressing Stiles’ hair and the back of his neck.

“We can do the mate ceremony,” he breathes out. “Ask Deaton to do it for us.”

Derek’s hand stills. After he a beat, Stiles hears a soft response coming from above him, “Werewolves mate for life.”

“I know,” he squeezes Derek’s middle. “For life sounds good to me. You?”

He doesn’t have to look at Derek’s face to be able to tell that he’s smiling as he replies, “Second best thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
